Greetings everyone! Thank you for your patience for this new chapter. I'm deep in nursing school right now and have limited time to write. I have no plans on abandoning Aldwen, though! Stay tuned for more...
When Aragorn finally managed to pull the arrow's tip out from Aldwen's shoulder she had fallen into a death-like sleep. She stirred little, and would not arouse even to take water. Aragorn would check on her frequently, cleaning the wound and applying steeped herbs and salves to aid in healing. He was not certain that she would come out of her fever alive, but said nothing. Éomer would also come frequently and sit in silence, his eyes dark with worry. He would watch Aldwen's chest rise and fall irregularly, her breathing shallow and her face drained of any color. He was angry with himself for not being more forceful with Aldwen when she departed for Broadacres. He had been surprised when she drew her blade against him in the stables. While her eyes burned with anger, he could see her hand tremble from her actions. Presently his moods were unpredictable, and all save Éoywn was wise enough to stay out of his way. It was on the third day that Aldwen's fever finally broke. Éowyn walked into her chambers delighted to find that she had finally stirred.
"Thank Béma, you're awake. How are you feeling?" She rushed into the room, sitting on the bed beside Aldwen. With a simple look, Aldwen needn't reply to how she was feeling. Éoywn brought her an urn full of water which Aldwen drank down greedily.
"What day is it?" Aldwen asked, her voice hoarse.
"March the Third, three days since you arrived back in Edoras," Éoywn explained as she took the urn away. "You should not drink too fast, you will make yourself sick." She gently pulled down the light sleeping dress which Aldwen now wore, exposing her wound. Aragorn had been diligently tending to it, applying tinctures of healing herbs before he sewed the wound shut. Its redness was already diminishing as the infection abated. Aldwen would always bear a large scar, but in time the wound would heal.
"I should let Lord Aragorn know that you are awake, he will be glad," Éowyn said as she got up. "As will my brother."
"Lord Aragorn knowing will be enough." Aldwen felt a tight knot form in her throat at the mention of Éomer.
She did not have the heart to see him yet, her memories were foggy but she remembered her feeling of guilt at her words. Éowyn gave her a small nod and left, shutting the chamber door. Though she had been in a deep sleep, Aldwen still felt exhausted. Her grief was heavy on her heart and she could not stop the flow of tears that sprang up as soon as Éowyn left the room. There was also anger rising up to mix with her grief. An anger that she had never known she possessed before. She had known little about the evil things stirring in distant lands, for how could they ever touch her? Though, nothing could quell the horror she had felt when she saw the cruelty and malice put forth by these servants of darkness. For it was only creatures of true evil that could have so little regard for any life, light, or good that this world held. She hated them.
"I'm glad to see you awake, Aldwen." She had not heard Aragorn enter the room. Her hands were tightly clutching the bedding in her anger. Aragorn placed a hand gently on her forehead, satisfied that her fever had indeed broken. He examined her shoulder, making sure the edges of the wound were coming together. "You are healing well, despite the seriousness of your injury." He sat down in a chair next to her bed. "It seems you have many thoughts other than your healing. What troubles you?"
"Tell me about the evil that rises in the East." Aldwen was never to shy away from getting to the point, a trait her father possessed.
Aragorn sighed and began with the tale of Morgoth and his servant Sauron, a tale which Aldwen knew well. He told her of the battles won against the traitor Saruman and his Uruk-Hai. He told her as much as he could without revealing the true nature of their quest and Frodo's ultimate task to destroy the One Ring. He explained that an attack on Gondor was only a matter of time, which is why they had gathered in Edoras. Aldwen listened intently to all that was said, taking in the gravity of their situation. From Aragorn's words, she began to finally understand that even if she wanted no part in what was to come, it was to be the doom of all people should Sauron be victorious. She realized she had been sheltered in Broadacres from the horrors of war. Now that her shelter was gone she felt truly exposed to the evils in Middle-Earth.
"What now, then?" she asked after Aragorn shared all he could.
"We wait. If the beacons of Minas Tirith are lit, King Théoden will have to decide if Rohan shall ride to the aid of Gondor; but nothing is certain."
Aragorn leaned further back into his chair, enjoying the quietness of the chambers. Aldwen sank deep into thought until she felt the heavy hand of sleep began to take her again. When she woke again, the room had grown dark from the coming night. The hour was late, for the fire in the hearth was beginning to fade. She heard the sounds of someone shifting in their seat and looked over to find Éomer sitting where Aragorn had once been. He gave her a small smile but said nothing. Aldwen, in turn, did not have words for him at that moment. A lengthy silence again fell upon the room; only the smoldering embers on the fire could be heard.
"I should have listened to you," Aldwen whispered after great length. "I knew deep in my heart there was nothing I could do, but I could not stop myself. Never before had I felt such desperation and fear. I have lived a life sheltered from the evils of the world. I was so blinded by that veil of innocence it had never crossed my mind such an evil could befall my land. I regret putting your éored in danger on account of my selfishness. I am sorry for-" Éomer put his hand up to silence her.
"There is nothing to forgive, Aldwen. My men and I went willingly to your aid. You acted as anyone would have if their kin were in danger. I only regret that we received news of these attacks so late." He took Aldwen's hand in his, watching as her face grew dark. "Although, I know of no woman who has ever drawn their blade against me."
"Not even your sister?" Aldwen joked. "I'm sorry, I was driven mad by my own desperation and anger. I knew not what I did."
"Remind me never to anger you." Éomer was sitting closer to her now than he had been, her small hand still in his.
"Why did you follow me?" she asked lifting her eyes to finally meeting his gaze. Éomer thought for a long moment before answering.
"Because friendship is a gift in this life, made even more precious in times of evil. I feel I have received a great gift in our meeting, and I did not want to be parted from you."
.
.
.
Aldwen woke to bright shafts of sunlight casting their warmth across her face. She had drifted back to sleep as she and Éomer spoke quietly together as the night deepened around them. She found herself alone now, though the fire had been stoked back to life in the hearth. She took this chance of solitude to rise from her bed and take a few unsteady steps around the room. The floor was cold beneath her bare feet, but she welcomed the sensation. She found herself restless from days of idleness.
She made her way on unsteady legs over towards a small table. Atop its surface were pieces of seemingly discarded livery. Folding her legs beneath her, she sat in a low chair and absentmindedly started sifting through the pieces of armor. She picked up a small hauberk, every link still as strong as when it was formed. There were also pieces of fine leather armor. The most beautiful was a breastplate intricately adorned with the crest of Rohan. Fine arm bracings a set of greaves there were also. Lastly was a blade, its hilt adorned with two horses intertwined as one. Their flowing manes serving as the terminus of the hilt. The pieces were beautiful she thought. All were well used and taken care of.
There was a light knock on her door then. Éowyn peered around the chamber door and entered, seeing that Aldwen was awake again. Aldwen quickly dropped the hilt of the sword she was still holding. She rose from her chair and apologized to Éoywn for prying.
Éowyn laughed lightly. "Éothain found them in your uncle's house," she explained. "I had to keep myself from prying! The pieces are quite beautiful. Do they belong to you?"
"They're my mother's," Aldwen said with sudden certainty. For she could think of no other reason why this armor would be hidden from her in Alleth's house. "My mother had been a shield-maiden of Rohan before my birth."
"It explains your courage, it does not surprise me that a horsemaster's daughter has such skill with the tools of war."
"It was not she who taught me, it was Alleth. He was insistent that I be taught how to defend myself. He was even more ardent with my training after my parents' death," she paused. " Now, I can see it was driven by a fear that I would one day be alone."
Éowyn took up both of Aldwen's hands. "I know from the depths of your despair you may feel alone," she said. "But you are not alone in this world."
There was another light knock on the chamber door. "Beg your pardon, My Lady." Hilde appeared in the doorway. "I've brought hot water at your request."
"You are too kind, Éowyn," Aldwen said; not just about the hot water.
"Come, wash away your sorrows and start the day anew." Éowyn gave her a beaming smile in parting as she left the room.
Hilde had drawn a hot bath for her and helped her out of the dress she wore. Her shoulder was sore and the stitches Aragorn had put in pulled against the swollen skin surrounding the wound as she moved. This was the first time Aldwen had gotten to see her injury and was surprised at how large the gash was.
"Hopefully, whoever you wed can look past the scar you will carry from your wound," Hilde said as Aldwen sank into the tub.
"If he cannot then I know he is not the man for me, Hilde. And who's to say if I will ever be married? I've heard tale of old witches in the West who are quite happy to be alone in the woods."
"I meant no offense, miss. I just assume it is most women's dream to be married and bear sons for their husbands." Aldwen could not tell if Hilde was being serious or not, but laughed none the less.
"You are young and sweet, Hilde. Rohan is filled with women of strong will and courage who have fulfilled their own lives. Do not ever let someone else's dream become your own." Hilde smiled at Aldwen while she helped her wash and rinse her hair.
After bathing, Aldwen was glad to see that Hilde had not thrown away her old clothes. After having had to wave Hilde off several times, she carefully dressed in her familiar garments. They had been cleaned thoroughly. Even some of the holes had been darned in her absence. Hilde then reappeared, insisting on using the binding Aragorn had ordered Aldwen to use while her arm healed. Finally satisfied, Hilde left Aldwen to fix her a small meal. Although she was still weary from her fever, Aldwen was restless and eager for fresh air.
Leaving her chambers, she found a secluded garden that afforded a sweeping view of Edoras. Aldwen closed her eyes as she let the cool spring air wash over her. The delicate bubbling of water could be heard nearby; the sweet aroma of blooming flowers was intoxicating. She sat alone in her own thoughts for a while when the sound of a door shutting pulled her back to the present. King Théoden had walked into the garden, seemingly unaware of her presence. She watched him silently as he paced to and fro, rubbing his brow with his fingers. Coughing quietly, she stood up and bowed her head at him. He wheeled around in surprise at the intrusion.
"My apologies, King Théoden, I did not expect to be a bother to anyone out here," Aldwen said as she walked towards the door. He stopped her with a gentle hand before she could leave.
"Sit with me," he beaconed pointing to a stone bench in the courtyard. "I am glad to see you are doing well. I hope you have found a small amount of comfort in my Hall."
"I have, thank you. Your hospitality is more than I deserve. By your leave, once I am well enough I will make my way back North-"
Théoden waved his hand, "Please, remain here as long as you wish. Long has it been since I have seen my niece enjoy so greatly the company of another." He smiled then. "And I know not what has come over Éomer, but by some feat, it seems you have him under some spell." Aldwen blushed deeply. "He told me that you fought with great courage in the defense of your town. I am not surprised, but few praises could be spoken higher by my nephew."
"I did not feel courageous," Aldwen said with shame. "I am no warrior. When the Orcs first came, I was so filled with fear I could do nothing but block their attacks. It is admirable to me how men can be so brave in the face of such terror."
"I have known many brave men, but I know fewer who have courage. True courage is learning to resist and master your fear, not ignore its presence. Fear is the only thing that separates us from our enemy, Aldwen." He rose then, taking her by the hand. "Come, you should not stay in this chill for long."